


retrouvailles

by osomnia



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Character Death, Clay | Dream is So Whipped (Video Blogging RPF), George can dance, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, POV Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Why do I have a thing for historical romances, ahh welp, im sorry, this is kinda short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:26:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28762530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/osomnia/pseuds/osomnia
Summary: ‘I promise you. I promise you, George, I’ll dance with you in a ballroom one day.’ I whispered as I pressed my brow against his, burning his touch into my memory.or, Dream and George are both ghosts, and they fulfill a promise made to each other before their passing.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	retrouvailles

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set somewhere in the Victorian era and its a sort of historical fantasy with elements of real history and bits of imagination. This fic isn’t aiming for historical accuracy so please don’t grill me;-;
> 
> if CCs state that anything in this fic makes them uncomfortable I'll take it down, also please don't take this too seriously I don't ship them irl, just their online personas
> 
> btw fanart is very much welcomed(pls tag @_osomnia on it if u do so I can see it:))
> 
> Anyway enjoy the fic and leave a comment if u like it, enjoy <3
> 
> p.s. thanks to nugget for being my beta reader

Aimlessly traversing, I found myself lured towards the end of a hallway, where familiar tunes leaked out. A ball took place behind its closed doors, with pieces of music I once loved spilling from within. I phased past the ornate threshold, leading to the dancing and music I had missed. 

As I looked up, I noticed something that had never caught my eye before: People dancing in the air, twirling around in a haze of colors. They looked magical, floating higher and higher as they danced. 

People who had already passed on; spirits like me.

In this spectacle of colors, I noticed every spirit has something that displayed the causes of their untimely deaths. Most of the ghosts present wore some evidence of consumption, sprinkled with other gruesome variants. 

I, for one, had a waistcoat clinging onto me. Its green color adorned with gold embroidery I used to adore has lost its appeal. It was a bitter reminder of its arsenic dye and its fatality that finally dawned upon me.

I watched in wonder as pairs glided fluidly in the air, freed from the constraints of gravity.

One couple, in particular, caught my eye. All the music, light, and laughter wouldn’t have been able to draw my eyes from them.

It was George, dancing with a lady. He was as graceful as I remembered -- swan-like yet simultaneously holding a regal edge. The weak movements of illness had left him. While the pale complexion remained, giving him an ethereal halo. One could cry about how happy and radiant he looked now. I stood there watching him switch from one partner to another as he danced, some faces familiar, some not.

Then, as George twirled past me, our eyes met, and a warm rush of butterflies burst through me as I looked at their warm brown depths. There was a pause in time.

* * *

My mind went back to the office in George’s private terrace.

George and I were holding each other in an embrace. We swayed to the music from the polyphon that flooded the room. We were close enough for me to see the specks of gold in his eyes.

‘What’s on your mind?’ He had asked me.

‘Nothing much,’ I told him, turning for my back to face him without losing his hold on me,’ Just about how much I want to do this with you in an actual event.’

‘You know we can’t, Dream, and you know why.’

‘Yes, it’s still unfair!’

George’s arms closed around me tighter.

‘Life is seldom fair,’ Came his solemn reply,’ I’m here, isn’t that enough?’

‘Of course, it is, but-’

‘Then let it be,’ he interrupted and kissed me.

The kiss was unhurried as if we had all the time in the world. Everything stopped; we froze in time. My heartbeat drummed in my ears. A slow flame burned in me as George’s mouth met mine. I heard the door creak open, from the draft or a curious passerby I didn’t know, nor did I care. Let them see.

‘I promise you.  _ I promise you _ , George, I’ll dance with you in a ballroom one day.’ I whispered as I pressed my brow against his, burning his touch into my memory.

* * *

‘May I have this dance?’ I asked, extending an arm to George, who had withdrawn to the side after his previous one had ended.

‘If you would have me,’ He smiled, pleasantly surprised.

He took my arm and followed me to the center of the room. I placed one hand on his waist, the other on his arm. His face was unblemished, unmarked, porcelain pale.

* * *

Then, my memory flashed to George’s bedside, when I acted like an inconsiderate colleague, not allowing a sick man to rest as I pester him with business matters. I pretended to be repellant to the family’s piercing stares and jabs as they supervised our encounters. I acted as if the image of George succumbed to his sickbed wasn’t forever imprinted into my mind.

It hurt me to see him weak and helpless. But it hurt me more that I couldn’t do anything for him. The only consolation I could give was in a letter.

It went like this:

_ My dear George, _

_ I send this letter in apology for calling on you in your sickbed with a hoard of ledgers. I pray that you do not scorn me for it and that you enjoy the limited company I can offer.  _

_ Again, I recall the memory of our secret rendezvous in your office. I thought of our most recent conversation, and a promise made. Upon that, my yearning to see you again is impossible to express in this letter. No time passes without me longing for your presence and touch. Nor do days go by without a reminder of your laughter.  _

_ Oh, how much I love it and miss it so. _

_ You should know, my love, that I told the moon about you. Of your patience and elegance. Of how your beauty outshines even it. And of how as I follow you, you’re always one step ahead, just out of reach. She was a good listener, but never better than you are. _

_ I pray for your recovery and happiness.  _

_ Wherever you go, I will surely follow close after. _

_ Eternally yours, _

_ D- _

The letter has presumably been reduced to ashes, speculated from the angry torrent of letters sent by George’s family after his passing. Their contents were about how I had risked ruining their family name. But why do I care? There was nothing I wanted from his family, not if he was gone.

* * *

The music started in a light introduction. Waltzing with him, I felt alive again, and my aura illuminated in my joy. The golden threads of embroidery on my waistcoat fractured speckles of light on the walls. Awed gasps came from down below where people - alive and dead, exclaimed at the constellation of stars I had cast.

The music came to a close. And as the sun bloomed onto the horizon, melting everything in its golden glow, we held each other.

We didn’t speak. There was no need. 

Then, I caught the sight of George’s aura fading away. An arrow of fear shot through me. But all was well when he pulled me in and whispered, ‘I missed you, my love.’ 

Those words ricocheted in my head as he slipped away into tendrils of smoke as he did all those years before. As he disappeared, his face betrayed nothing, only placid contentment.

People said that ghosts remain on earth due to unfinished businesses. My business has been completed, living up to the promise of giving George one last dance. One last dance, before we were to leave earth. One last dance before I would mourn for him. One last dance, before we may never meet again, unbeknownst of the workings of the afterlife.

There was nothing but peace when I, too, began to blur around the edges, melting into nothingness.

On the other side, as patient as ever, was George, waiting for me to join him.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked this fic and thanks for all the kudos I’ve gotten so far:)  
> (hehe comments are also very poggers)


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